


THE8

by wistfullywishing



Series: 2017 SEVENTEEN Project Chapter1 Alone Trailer Character Studies [11]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: ??? - Freeform, Alone, Alternate Universe, Character Study, Cheating, Codes & Ciphers, Comeback, Emotions, M/M, Phone Calls & Telephones, Post-it Notes, Teasers & Trailers, Theories, al1, fan assumptions, numbers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-22
Updated: 2017-05-22
Packaged: 2018-11-03 13:59:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10968687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wistfullywishing/pseuds/wistfullywishing
Summary: do you remember how long did we share for each other?





	THE8

_ Even though you are being alone, remember we are on your side and don't be afraid of all the fears you have. _

 

In the beginning, he was overjoyed to move in when his boyfriend asked him to. It was a beautiful house, quiet and peaceful with a magnificent view. He was naive then. It wasn’t until much later that he began to suspect his presence in the house was merely to fill in for someone else, someone that his boyfriend always seemed to have on his mind. And he started to think that maybe no matter what, he would never be able to replace a first love.

He was just returning from a trip to the nearby supermarket. They didn’t particularly need groceries, but the house was too empty when he explored the place, too eerie. The grounds felt like an asylum for ghosts, possibly ghosts born from hushed voices and memories best left forgotten. 

He walked in, brown paper bag tucked safely under one arm. Nothing seemed out of place from when he left, not the paintings on the walls or the ostentatious furniture. He was still smiling when he walked past the potted plants, pausing to finger their flower petals. But when he finally set the groceries down on the nearest flat surface, he noticed a small scrap of paper that he was entirely sure had not been lying about before he left.

Frowning to himself, he checked all of the locks and doors in the house. There was no sign of a forced entry. Perhaps he had simply not seen the note before? But that was impossible. It was too obvious, entirely out of place on a table with carved jade dragon paperweights and ink bib pens. 

When he strolled back around to the table, he moved the groceries to rest on the floor, leaning against the table, and he knew. Even before picking up the paper he knew what he would find, and a silent defeat overcame his senses.

It was an old scrap of paper, faded and yellowed, saved after all this time. On it was written a phone number, one that belonged to none of the residents in the house. Of course.

Although he had seen it coming from a mile away, it was still hard to ignore the bitter taste in his mouth, the crushing disappointment of knowing his fears were correct.

The8 sat in the nearest wooden chair, uncaring. Quietly, he put his arms on the tabletop and then buried his face in them, letting the shame wash over him. He had expected it, and still he stayed.

When the brown bag full of bread and apples finally toppled over, he didn’t move to pick up the fruit that tumbled out. Instead, he let it fall. It seemed like he always had the power to prevent things from falling apart, but he was too weak to do anything besides watch disaster happen. 

When the rolling apples finally came to a stop, the magic 8 ball that fell out with the contents of the grocery bag continued to spin in place, just like his thoughts. 103. The numbers were almost familiar, reminding him of a hotel room somewhere else, yet they were not the same. Just like him. Neither could provide complete satisfaction. 

Bracing his elbows on the table, he willed the tears back.

\---

_ When his friend finally found him, The8 was still sitting there in the same chair, face buried in arms. The fruit lay on the floor, long forgotten, a quality he could relate to.  _

_ The other boy didn’t need to ask what was wrong. He picked up the post-it note, and looking at it, all of the pieces fell into place, one by one. _


End file.
